


Per Angusta

by QuillerQueen



Series: Bread and Games [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Gladiators, Alternate Universe - Historical, Background Leopold (Once Upon a Time), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 16:24:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14060823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuillerQueen/pseuds/QuillerQueen
Summary: Prompt 130: Robin and Henry bond. Sneak peek from a future chapter of Bread and Games. Potentially spoilery and subject to change.





	Per Angusta

Summer in the city has always had the tendency of becoming unbearable this time of year, and the stretch of river beside the Campus Martius invariably fills with swimmers seeking refreshment. Some of Robin's fondest boyhood memories are of frolicking in the yellowish waters of the Tiber, and today’s youth seem no less taken by its charms. Schoolboys flock to its shores in droves, leaving behind discarded items of clothing, happy to accept the invitation the river god himself seems to be extending.

Henry always heads right past the beloved spot and straight home.

Even today, as the sun-kissed stone underfoot threatens to burn holes through their sandals, Henry resolutely refuses to so much as look in the river’s direction.

“Seems rather enjoyable, does it not?” Robin notes, watching him from the corner of his eye. “How about we take a little swim before we continue?”

“Oh...no, that's okay. Let’s just go.”

And so they do, Henry’s strides swifter until the riverbend is left behind, not another words spoken between them.

The garden is relatively cool, especially when Robin carefully follows suit and dangles his feet in the shallow pool. Henry doesn’t seem to object to his company as such, but he also seems quite lost in his own world. Robin can’t help but worry he’s to blame for the lads’ marked drop in mood, although he’s not sure he understands why.

The muttered confession is almost lost in the gentle splashing of the water as Henry’s feet paddle slowly.

“I can't swim. I...never learned.”

“Ah,” Robin nods slowly. That explains a lot, then. It’s a bit unusual for a boy his age, and his dejected expression would suggest he’s not particularly happy with the fact. “And would you like to learn?”

Henry doesn’t look up at him at all, merely treads water a bit more forcefully, frowning at the waves he’s stirring (the resemblance to Regina is rather striking right now).

“What if I’m hopeless?” he asks at last with the tone of one revealing a dark secret.

“There’s no such thing as hopeless, Henry.”

“That’s what Mom says—that I can do anything I set my mind to, and she loves me always. But I think I might be. Hopeless, I mean. I’m—scared of water. Not all water—just deep one, where my feet won’t reach. I know it’s cowardly, and I try to fight it, but—I can’t help it. I always remember how father’s old slave would throw me into the river every year...and then the water in my mouth, and all around me, and I—” His voice, quivery throughout, finally breaks then, his eyes wide as he stares at the rippling surface—but he wipes at his eyes, tries so valiantly to not shed tears even as he utters a resigned: ”I just panic.”

Robin is seething. He could bloody rip the throat off that sodding bastard, Leopold, with his bare two hands. It would have been his job, his privilege, to teach his son to swim. That’s how it usually goes, and in many families it’s a cherished tradition, and valued bonding time between father and son. But that tosser? He just keeps proving over and over again how bloody unworthy he is of so much as licking the dirt off his wife and son’s shoes. And if his blatant disregard weren’t enough—would actually almost be a gift, as things stand—his abusive ways go as far as to torture, traumatise, and endanger those he should rightfully and by law cherish and protect.

So Robin is livid—but Henry’s here, and he’s anguished, and so Robin needs to rein it in and put Henry’s needs above his own rage.

“I stand by my word,” he says gently but firmly. “You are _not_ hopeless, and my offer stands as long as you’re willing to try. My methods don’t involve throwing lads in at the deep end—and neither would any sensible person’s. Henry—I need you to understand this is not on you, all right?”

Henry finally raises his eyes to meet Robin’s, a flicker of something—hope, or wonder, or both (Regina comes to mind again, incredulous and moved by the simplest act of kindness)—that hits Robin square in the chest.

“You'd really teach me? Even though I'm not yours?”

“Well, legally speaking, I'm hardly even human, but that doesn’t stop me from ca—”

“But you are! You're one of the best people there are. Mom says so, too. If the law doesn't recognise that, then it’s a stupid law, and it should be changed.”

“I quite agree.” Not the point, but Robin can’t help the warmth at Henry’s indignation on his account (and not only his, because this is bigger than them) or his sharp sense of justice before law. “The point is this, Henry. You are a great lad—smart, and creative, and your heart is true. Your father should be proud to call you son. I know I am—proud of you, I mean. And yes, I’d be honoured to teach you how to swim, just as I've taught Ro—”

But the air is momentarily knocked out of him as Henry launches himself into his chest, throws his arms around his neck, and holds on tight as Robin rubs his back soothingly.

“Thank you,” he mumbles tearfully into his shoulder.

“Of course, my boy,” Robin breathes, quite overcome himself by this newest show of trust. “Any time.”


End file.
